


Shared Wounds [Soulmate!AU]

by WindMeister8



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Double Agents, F/M, Police, Soulmates, Spy - Freeform, Triads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindMeister8/pseuds/WindMeister8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew soulmates could be both a joy and a pain? When one sustains injuries, the other feels the same hurt. For years, you had wondered who your injury-prone soulmate could be. When you finally met him in a tea-related forum, you were overjoyed. But it won't be as easy as you think it is to see him face-to-face...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shared Wounds [Soulmate!AU]

_Soulmates are a pain in the neck. Literally._

You winced slightly as you felt the wound on your leg open up again. Bending down in your chair, you massaged your knee, your fingers running down your smooth skin. The pain obviously did not subside but the motion made you feel better. Knowing that the problem couldn’t be solved on your end, you straightened your back and speedily typed out a single line on your computer.

> **Are you treating your leg properly?**

The answer came pretty fast and you sighed in relief as the pain reduced to a dull ache.

> _**Sorry about that. Just did a quick disinfection on it.**_

Your eyebrows furrowed, knowing that he was obsessed about hygiene.

> **Are you in the field?**

While waiting for an answer, your fingers drummed on the table, a sign that you were anxious. His mission should be over by now and he should be off the field. The fact that he was still out there somewhere, possibly in a direct line of fire, made you worry to no end. Other than the direct chat line that you had with him, there was no other way for you to contact him. You didn’t know his real name, and you certainly had no idea where he was located.

> _**Yes. Not in danger though. I just exerted myself a little too much.**_

A sigh of relief escaped your lips and your heartbeat decreased to a normal rate. Concern quickly dissolved into frustration and you scowled.

> **I told you not to overdo it, idiot!**  
> _**Yes, yes. You’re worse than my superior.**_

You quickly stifled a giggle, hoping that no one around you had caught on to your discreet conversation. Holding back your smile, you jovially replied.

> **So are we all set for this weekend?**

You were looking forward to it because after a year-long courtship, the two of you were finally prepared to meet face-to-face in two days. Your friends had laughed at the snail pace at which your relationship progressed, but you couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t a typical relationship that most people had. In fact, it was rather painful in every sense of the word. You had often cursed the existence of soulmates when you were younger, hating the constant bouts of pain that your soulmate indirectly inflicted on you. Thinking that it was probably a rebellious phase, you believed that it would pass. But as you grew older, the frequency increased and it got you wondering as to whom your soulmate could be.

As a member of the police force, the injuries you attained were an occupational hazard and you pondered whether he could similarly be in the same occupation as you… or the direct opposite. Either way, you knew that he would be experiencing the pain from your wounds as well and sometimes, it made you chuckle as to how fate gave the both of you twice the amount of hurt of other people.

So when you met Rivaille through an internet chat forum about tea, it didn’t take you long to realize that he was your soulmate. When you inquired about his occupation, he had answered that he was in the police force as well. Initially cautious about his identity, you had quizzed him harder than the questions asked in the National Police Officer Selection Test. His flawless answers put your heart at ease and you immediately asked to meet up, eager to finally see your soulmate.

To your disappointment, he declined with the excuse that his position would only put you in danger. Instead, he wanted to start off as just friends. Anger and disbelief initially shrouded your judgement, causing you to give him the cold shoulder. His cold, methodical way of talking did nothing to alleviate the situation. 

That was until one day when you were on a mission to raid one of the triad’s drug cache. You had successfully nailed some of the members of the triad but as you took aim at the last one, a ripple of pain down your back made you stumble and you squeezed off a wild round. Taking advantage of your moment of vulnerability, the opponent hurriedly fired his last shot, hitting you in the abdomen, before running away.

The combination of your soulmate’s wounds and your own left you in severe agony to the point that you would rather die than continue suffering. Thanks to your colleague’s speedy reaction, you were quickly sent to the hospital. Although your own injury had been treated, the other one still painfully throbbed.  As you writhed on your hospital bed, your thoughts were with Rivaille. Was he out there dying somewhere, alone and crying for help? Despite your misgivings about him, your heart still ached as you worried for his wellbeing.

A soft beep brought you out of your thoughts and you fished out your mobile phone from your pocket. It was from Rivaille. A simple two words “I’m sorry” filled the screen.

Bolting upright, you stared at the glowing words, trying to comprehend its meaning. As it slowly dawned on you what he meant, your puzzled expression morphed into horror. Praying to God that you weren’t too late, you hurriedly replied, “Don’t you dare give up on me, Rivaille.”

You waited impatiently for him to answer, cursing under your breath for not having his contact details or even his name. In this desperate situation, you couldn’t do anything besides sit and wait. And that only got on your already high-strung nerves.

Another beep alerted you and you immediately swiped at your phone, opening the message.

> _**I’m sorry, (F/N). I know I brought harm to you just like I brought harm to my colleagues. You were lucky today but the next time my injuries distract you, you might die. It’s better for me to just die now.**_

“No no no… No!” you muttered under your breath. He must have deduced from the timing that your injury was sustained because you had been distracted by his. And now he was blaming himself for it. 

You typed furiously, the fear and dread of losing him settling deep inside you. 

> **You fucking fool! If you die, then you’re just giving me a permanent injury in my heart. Get your shit together and call for help!**  
> _**(F/N)… you care for me?**_

Almost to the point of screaming in frustration, you gritted your teeth and answered, “Is that really the question you should be asking?? Stop wasting time and call someone!!”

There was a pause and your heart almost stopped, fearing the worst had happened even though the pain in your back still remained.

> _**There is someone I could call… but he’s not going to like it.**_  
> **Just call him!! If he has a fucking problem with that, ask him to come see me and I’ll give him a fucking problem.**

Soon after, you felt the pain ease and you heaved a sigh of relief. Sinking into your bed, you realized that your cheeks were moist and it was only then that you finally let out the tears that had been held back unconsciously. Despite everything you thought, you still felt something for him. You loved him.

And now, you were finally meeting the love of your life in less than 48 hours. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide the silly love-sick grin that stretched across your face. When Rivaille’s reply appeared on your screen, you almost leapt out of your seat.

> _**I’m sorry (F/N). I just got assigned one last mission. But after this is done, I’ll be free.**_

Your heart sank. All the preparations you had been making for the past few months were now a waste. And most important of all, your hopes of seeing him were dashed. From early on, he had made it clear that his job required strict confidentiality, which meant that nobody except the top brass knew what he was doing. That was why he had not left you his contact details nor his real name. Time after time, he had promised that it would be over soon but it never happened.

> **When is it ever going to end? I was looking forward to it so much. I even booked a nice hotel room. Once you tell me who your superior is, I’m going to kill him personally.**

Eyeing the other colleagues around you, you wondered which one of them was Rivaille’s supervisor. And if they were, you thought of the oh-so-many ways you could make them suffer.

> _**We'll both kill him. I see someone is getting naughty though. I can’t wait to bed you too, so don’t worry. Just wait for me. Gotta run.**_

Leaning back in your chair, your mind wandered off into Perverted Land, thinking of what you would do to him once he was yours. A gentle vibration jolted you from your reverie and you reached for your mobile phone. But it wasn’t the source of the movement.

Your smile slipped off your face. Digging into your pocket, you brought up a second smaller phone. You looked around discreetly, making sure that nobody was paying attention to you, before bringing up the message.

_Second batch incoming. ETA is Sunday 0700. Find the rat. Now._

 

“We’ve received news that the triads are getting the next batch of drugs on Sunday morning. This time, we’ll be operating in groups of three..”

You watched the head of the operation, Pixis, intently as he gave his orders. The bald-headed man looked mild and benign, but behind his external appearance hid a sharp and cunning mind. After months of secretly investigating the upper echelon of the police force, he had moved to the top of your list as one of the more likely candidates to be in charge of implanting spies into the triad society. 

In spite of all your efforts to monitor his activity, you couldn’t verify your hunch as he went to great lengths to put anyone off his trail. Recently, however, you had managed to capture communication between him and the police commander regarding the incoming drug shipment. That sealed your belief that he was the police handler of the mole in your triad.

For many months now, the triad business had dipped significantly because of the high frequency of police raids. There was only one possibility of that happening – the police had planted their own agent within the triads.  With your standing in the police force, you were the obvious choice for the job of uncovering the mole. And now that you were so close to identifying the mole, you trembled with anticipation and anger, thinking of what you would say and do when you met him… or her.

Countless of your brothers and sisters had died at this person’s hands and it made your blood boil to think that someone trusted in the organization had caused this. The triads were your friends and your family. Without them, you would have been just another orphan plying the beggar trade along the side of the road. They offered you a home, companionship, and gave you a reason to live once again. 

Serving in the police force though had somewhat mellowed you and you found yourself liking the life that you led. The peaceful lifestyle made you feel normal once again. There wasn’t a need to constantly look behind your back and be on edge. The laws protected you and you enforced the law to a certain degree. With the arrival of Rivaille into your life, you felt complete in this new identity that had been given to you. But still, your loyalties would always lie with the triads, no matter what.

Turning your attention back to Pixis, you searched for some clue on his person and in his behavior. Now that the operation was on a strict time limit, he was bound to make some kind of slip-up during contact with his agent within the triad. You were counting on it.

As the hours slipped by, you kept a watchful eye on him while making the necessary preparations for the operation. It was almost midnight when you saw him receiving a call. An important one from the looks of it because he immediately left the room. You turned in your chair, about to follow him out, when your colleague pressed you for further details about the location of the drop. 

Inwardly, you cursed at this missed opportunity but instead, you flashed her a smile and explained the layout of the building in which the drugs would exchange hands. By the time you were done, Pixis had returned, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You pinched your thigh in frustration, the pain acting as a way to release your pent-up emotions. 

“Commander Pixis,” came a voice from the back of the room. “We need to test comm lines. P1, check.”

Pixis acknowledged with a small nod and took out a second phone from his other jeans pocket. It rang almost immediately and he answered, “P1, ready.”

“Thank you, Commander Pixis. A2, check.”

The police officer ran down a list of phone numbers, ensuring that each agent on the field could be reached. As you completed the check using your agent phone, a brainwave hit you. Just like you had two phones on your person, so did Pixis. Which meant…

You pulled up a smaller screen on your laptop and rapidly typed in Pixis’s phone number. Modifying a few parameters in the source code that you obtained from one of your brothers in the triad, you quickly compiled it into a binary executable and hid it in a MMS that you immediately sent to Pixis. 

It was a harmless MMS on the outside and you could see a slight tinge of red color Pixis’s cheeks as he downloaded the picture of the naked girl you had sent. Meanwhile, the code you had written would discreetly be executed on his phone, searching for the presence of other phones within a small radius. Once it picked up the identity of Pixis’s other private phone, it would open a communication link to you and send its number.

Your fingers tapped on the keyboard, waiting impatiently for a reply. With each passing second, you worried more about whether the code was working correctly or that the second phone was within range of the first one. But a small ping brought your attention back to your screen and you almost cheered out loud as a number appeared.

_Moving on to phase 2._

 

The comparative silence of the small carpark in stark contrast with the havoc that was taking place in the adjacent building was strangely comforting. You could hear the sounds of gunfire coming from there but it seemed like a distant dream. The ambush by the police force had not gone down well – thanks to you – but neither had the triad’s escape plan proceeded as expected. A gun fight had erupted immediately and it would all come down to firepower and sheer luck as to who would win. 

That was out of your hands. You had slipped away easily during the chaos and set up your vantage point in the carpark. It was close enough to the gun battle so that you could keep tabs on the situation and sneak back when everything was over, yet far enough to conduct your private business without interruption.

You clutched your old revolver, the feel of the familiar cold metal in your hand putting you at ease. Your police issued revolver sat comfortably on your hip, not to be used for this occasion. It was time for this whole game of cat and mouse to come to an end. You were soon to meet the mole in the triads and you would make sure that the bullet you put between his eyes would be the one from your trusty revolver.

As the appointed time drew closer, you could barely hold back your anticipation. It was easy enough spoofing a message to the mole that supposedly came from Pixis, telling him to meet at this place. But now that the time was near, you contemplated different ways of ending his life. 

The sound of a door creaking open disrupted your thought process and you cautiously poked your head out from your hiding place behind a pillar. A man wearing a knit cap and a scarf around his face appeared, walking steadily in your general direction. He surveyed his surroundings as he strode closer before stopping between two black cars. 

Your heart raced as he looked around, trying to find his handler, Commander Pixis. This was it. Raising your revolver, you carefully aimed it at his head, your finger slowly closing around the trigger. 

Without warning, he turned and started to walk back the way he came. Shocked, you lowered your weapon. He must have either sensed danger or decided that something was wrong. Whatever it was that triggered him, you couldn’t get a good shot this way. 

Quickly thinking on your feet, you fumbled for your phone and speed-dialed the one number that was programmed into it. A soft ring echoed in the silence and you saw the man stop. He pulled out the ringing phone and turned back, slowly walking back towards you.

A sly smirk spread across your face and as you heard him pick up through the earpiece, you raised your revolver. 

“Hello?”

“Well hello…. Mr. Rat.”

Your shoulder jerked back slightly with the recoil of the weapon but your target’s reflexes were faster, having ducked behind the two cars as soon as you had spoken. Curses flew out of your mouth as you berated yourself for missing the target. With almost impeccable timing, a searing pain ran down your leg and you winced, dropping to the floor.

Of all times, it had to be now. But this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Knowing that your initial advantage had just flown out the window, you knew you had to move. He would have estimated your general position and would be closing in on you soon. 

Spotting a better position a few metres away behind another pillar, you took a deep breath before launching yourself away from your hiding place. Another wave of pain tore through your body and your pace slowed, desperately limping forward as fast as you could.

From the corner of your eye, you detected movement behind one of the cars. Terror almost paralyzed you as you realized you might not make it in time. Gritting your teeth, you swung your arm around, trying to get a shot at him.

But you weren’t fast enough and a slug embedded itself in your left shoulder. Crying out in agony, your vision blurred slightly but you now had a better aim. Your target was standing strangely still, making it easy for you to focus.

“You…”

As your vision cleared, you noticed the silver eyes of your target staring in disbelief and shock at you, his hand clutching his left shoulder. Knowing that you had the upper hand, you grinned widely as your finger depressed the trigger..

_Wait. His left shoulder is not bleeding…_

It was a chest shot. Your target jerked backwards and landed on the ground with a large thump. Almost instantly, the pain in your leg disappeared. You staggered a little, your gun hanging limply in your hand. 

_It was over… wasn’t it?_

But if it was really over, there wouldn’t be a growing ache in your heart. You took small steps toward the dead body, each step heavier than the previous one. You were terrified of learning the identity of the target, yet your body moved of its own accord.

Your feet stopped in front of the body. Dropping to your knees, you took in the sight of the man sprawled on the ground, his blood slowly seeping out from his fatal wound. You fished into his pockets and retrieved his phone. Scrolling through the messages from Pixis, your gaze fell on the last message.

**Just wait for me. Gotta run.**

His last message to you. Rivaille’s last message…. to you.

_No… it couldn’t be. This must be a mistake. It has to be!_

The phone dropped to the ground with a clack. With growing dismay, you put together the pieces of the puzzle, each piece further confirming the theory in your mind. Digging further into his pockets, you brought out a police ID card. It was an old one, the picture slightly blurry, but you could see the youthfulness and good looks of its owner. On the top was a name: Levi Ackerman.

Your face turned ashen, recognizing the similarity of the name with your soulmate’s fake name. The card shook in your tight grip as you struggled to keep your emotions under wrap. Gulping hard, you turned to look at the man whom you had shot. You feared the truth..  but you feared never knowing the truth.

With trembling fingers, you reached out and unraveled the scarf around his neck, next his hat. Raven locks spilled out, falling over the pale skin of the young man. Your breath hitched as you matched his appearance to the man in the photo – the prominent jawline, thin lips, undercut hair style. 

It was him. Levi Ackerman. Rivaille. Your soulmate.

Your fingers gently traced the contour of his face – from his narrow forehead to his closed eyes, then to the hollows of his cheek and finally to his mouth. Lingering on his cold lips, you choked back the tears as you realized you would never taste the sweetness of his kiss, hear the sound of his voice, or feel the touch of his skin. 

A soft whimper escaped your throat as you cradled Levi’s face in your hands, the full horror of what you had done hitting you harder than a ton of bricks. The agony of losing him was far worse than any other pain. It tore you up on the inside, shattering your soul and taking away your will to live.

You simply sat there, rocking to and fro, as your hands methodically ran through Levi’s hair. Time seemed to have come to a stop until the sound of a bang sliced through your dulled senses. Your head snapped up and you saw the door swing open. Gently resting Levi’s head back on the ground, you slowly got up, turning towards the source of the sound.

“Well, well, I presume the job is done.”

“Boss,” you whispered hoarsely as the head of the triads approached you, clad in a black shirt and pants.

He came to a stop beside you and looked down at Levi, his face expressionless. “So this was the traitor.”

You merely nodded, words failing you at the moment. 

“Hmph,” he grunted in disgust before landing a kick on Levi’s prone body.

Your head jerked up to look at him and you could feel your strength slowly returning, fueled by the rage that was quickly building. 

“Well, you did a good job. I didn’t really expect that you would be the one to do it, since the rest are obviously better than you. But still… you did well,” he stated matter-of-factly before turning to look at you.

He frowned in puzzlement. “Why are you crying?”

Your eyes widened as you realized that your cheeks were moist. Quickly wiping away the tears, you replied bitterly, “Nothing. It’s just that… he was my soulmate.”

He gave a look of surprise before chuckling. “All the better then. Now you’ll never be bothered by his pain.”

His words were like an arrow that pierced your heart. It stirred something deep and dark within you, fueling your burning hatred and sudden distaste for anything related to the triads.

Gripping the gun that was still in your hands, you said softly, “Yeah, you’re right. But… who are these others you’re talking about?”

“Did you really think we planted just one mole into the police force?” he snorted in amusement before turning away. “I’ve got to go now. But congratulations on proving your worth.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you pulled the trigger.

His head erupted in a splay of blood, some specks landing on your face and clothes. You lowered the gun and sank to your knees. Looking down at your bloodstained hands, you laughed maniacally. Your whole life had been a sham and when the one person who could make it meaningful appeared, you had killed him with your own hands.

_Yes, you would never feel his pain. But with each passing day, the wound in your heart would only grow. The only way it could find satisfaction would be by wounding others. With the same precision that you shot the bullet that pierced his heart and thus your own, you would leave in your wake a chain of deaths of those whom you held responsible. And once the last man had fallen, the final bullet would come full circle by shooting out the void in your heart.._

_leaving you wounded no more._


End file.
